


The Quiet

by AbbyWritesTrash, elena_stidham



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: And angsty, Angst with a Happy Ending, Collaboration, Exposed, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, One Shot, but it's good, keeping secrets, that's my motto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 12:08:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10921503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbbyWritesTrash/pseuds/AbbyWritesTrash, https://archiveofourown.org/users/elena_stidham/pseuds/elena_stidham
Summary: “I know what you’re doing.” The word was practically spat at Otabek and Yuri made sure to look him in the eye as he said it. “I know what you’ve done.”





	The Quiet

Otabek didn’t think that Yuri would notice, but he did. He noticed the vibrations on his phone, the life behind his eyes light up, the way he silently stood and dashed out of Yuri’s apartment as quick as he could. _Maybe he had an offer for a DJ gig,_ he had thought at first. _Maybe his family had good news._ He didn’t want to think on it too much, knowing that it probably wasn’t a big deal at all — until his brain strung together just the right words to send him into a spiral of paranoia and questioning for everything that they had done together in the past year.

_Maybe he’s getting bored of me._

He’d heard couples talk about it before. That the longer you’re together, the harder the relationship gets. He’d been told it gets boring, that sometimes things get too predictable, too comfortable, even… But they’d never _been_ a normal couple. Yuri and Otabek were fun and spontaneous and had a great sex life, everything was just how it should be. That’s what Yuri had thought, at least.

It had been subtle at first. The first few unexplained text messages, Yuri could ignore. They’d never been the kind of couple to snoop on each other’s messages or anything, but when Otabek actually began to get defensive about it, when he started actively turning his phone away from Yuri when they were cuddling on the couch or in bed, Yuri really began to worry.

_What doesn’t he want me to see?_

Yuri had had the courage to ask Otabek about it once — just once — and the answer was so out of character it made his heart sink into his chest and almost disappear from his body altogether.

_“Don't worry about it.”_

Why the fuck shouldn't he worry about it? The love of his life suddenly starting to lose interest in him is extremely worrying, at the very least. That doesn't include emotionally harrowing. He had tried to dismiss every fear that boiled at the pit of his stomach for so long, but the feelings were starting to become too much to hold down. He almost felt like he could throw up — at that edge of sickness but not quite.

There’s a very small voice at the back of his head that tells him he’s being stupid… That little voice tries desperately to reiterate how much Beka loves him, but with every new incident, every single time Otabek leaves to answer some mysterious call or text message, the voice seems to get quieter, and a louder one begins to tell him to mentally prepare for the end.

It’s hard to feel that way.

It’s desperately hard to begin to prepare for the end of anything, let alone the end of a relationship with someone who Yuri is still desperately in love with. He supposes it was inevitable. Eventually it would happen. Everything good comes to an end at some point, and that’s something Yuri has learnt from experience.

Yuri had waited that night, lying in their bed with one side cold. Most of the time, Otabek never really stayed at his own place and just would sleep at the boy’s apartment, and the bed was always warm and smelt of cinnamon and cedar. It always smelt of Otabek. His hand glided over to the other side; there was nothing but cold.

Otabek didn't come back until about two in the morning.

Everything was killing him. Yuri felt that love was putting his heart on the table, giving his significant other a knife and asking him not to cut it. So far so good. But yet, now it felt like Otabek was taking his time and carving it down piece by piece until there would be nothing remaining.

He waited, pretending to be asleep until he heard the familiar calmness of his lover when he was unconscious. Quietly, he stood up and stepped over to the other side of their bed, picking up Otabek’s phone; he stared at the screen for what felt like years, before he finally did what he never thought he would do: he unlocked it and opened the messages.

Yuri’s name was the only one he read on the screen. Everything else had been deleted.

_So this really is it._

It felt like a bullet straight through his heart. Why else would Otabek have deleted everything? It had been so painfully obvious and this was all the confirmation he needed. This was it.

Yuri walked on tiptoes back to his side of the bed and carefully tucked himself in, looking over Otabek’s body to make sure nothing looked like it had been moved. Everything looked normal and as Yuri settled further into the bed, he had to stop himself from wrapping his arms around Otabek. He shuffled away from the warmth beside him and instead curled in on himself, wishing desperately that he would just disappear.

When Yuri finally fell asleep that night, it wasn’t a peaceful one. It was filled with all the countless ways that this could end, what Otabek would say, what he’d do… The final thought he had before he finally slipped into unconsciousness was that maybe, just maybe, he should beat Otabek to it.

 

* * *

 

“I’m leaving.”

Yuri tried his absolute damndest to keep his voice from cracking, to keep his eyes from welling, to keep himself from breaking — _especially_ after he saw the look on Otabek’s face when he said those words.

“Yura, what is this all about? Let's talk about this—”

“—Let’s not,” Yuri snapped, sparking a silence and a pang in his chest that trickled its way up to his throat. Swallowing it down, he continued. “Do you think I'm stupid?”

“What?”

“Do you think I'm stupid, Otabek?”

Otabek looked absolutely blindsided by the question, the first time ever hearing it out of the Russian’s mouth. “Of course not.”

“Bullshit.”

His voice cracked right then. He had tried to desperately to have control over this conversation and yet he could feel it slipping from his grasp. Yuri couldn’t let him win like this, not after what he’d done, but he couldn’t stop the waver in his voice or how his throat felt like it was beginning to tighten.

“I know what you’re _doing_ .” The word was practically spat at Otabek and Yuri made sure to look him in the eye as he said it. “I know what you’ve _done_.”

“Yuri, I have no idea what you’re talking about—”

“—Then think harder. All those fucking calls and texts? All those late nights where you didn’t even bother to tell me when you were coming home? What the fuck, Beka!?” Yuri was aware that he was getting louder the more that he spoke, but the words kept coming, and slowly but surely, so did the tears.

“So is that what this is about?” Otabek’s expression became so much calmer, so much more relaxed... _relieved_ even.

Yuri balled his hands into fists, holding his gaze and taking one last deep breath as he started to walk. “I'm leaving,” he repeated, now walking past Otabek until he felt a grip at his wrist.

“Yura,” Otabek smiles, his grip gentle. He turns so that the two of them are facing each other, and his voice never falters, a small, humourless chuckle escaping his throat. “You’re being silly.”

“Beka.. You just don’t understand.” Yuri’s voice stutters even though he tries to make it forceful. “I— You can’t just—” His words keep getting caught in his throat as he tries to avoid Otabek’s gaze, but fails miserably, instead looking up into his deep brown eyes.

“Then make me understand,” Otabek says coolly, his voice smooth and tender like honey. He knew he has to be the calm one right now in this situation, because matching Yuri’s energy could be dangerous. Deadly, even. “Look at me,” he says, gently tucking his finger under Yuri’s chin, guiding their eyes to match.

“Do you know how hard it is to not know what you’re feeling?” Yuri’s voice has suddenly gone quiet, a shocking contrast to how loud and brash he usually is about everything. He looks small and fragile, two words Beka had never once associated with the Russian, and when Beka looked deeper into Yuri’s eyes, really studying them, he was certain that he could see tears beginning to form. With a flash of sudden anger, Yuri slams his hands against Otabek’s chest, pushing him backwards. “This is all your fucking fault!”

Otabek feels a sharp pang in his heart at the words, as if he had been stabbed in the chest. “I know how hard it is,” he says quietly, trying to keep a gentle yet firm grip on his boyfriend to keep him from doing anything too rash. “Yura,” his voice raises back to a normal volume but it wasn’t anything frightening. “You need to breathe.”

“This would be so much easier if I just kept my fucking mouth shut.” Yuri practically whispers, his head turning to the floor as he looks at his shoes. “I… I’m sorry, Beka. I need to go.”

“Yura,” his voice cracks at the mere thought of Yuri really leaving him. He’s caught halfway between desperately wanting to let Yuri in on the secret, but the other half of him is thinking that what if Yuri _is_ angry at him? Is he being too presumptuous? _Is Yuri even ready?_

Yuri pulls away from Otabek, reluctantly. _I knew this was going to happen. I prepared for this!_ He gets three steps away before he looks back, and his heart promptly shatters. Yuri’s fists clench at his sides and he wills himself not to walk back towards him, but his feet don’t listen. He closes the gap between them and finally, _finally_ they kiss, their mouths crashing together as Yuri finally lets the dam break and all of his emotions, everything he’s felt for the past week escapes. The wall breaks down between them, every brick shattering as it crashes to the ground. _It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters apart from this. Nothing but him._

It feels like a damn dream — a nightmare, more like — like opening a floodgate and allowing everything to wash over and drown him in this feeling. Their kisses were normally soft and loving full of smiles afterwards, but this one is harsh and desperate, teeth clashing with lips and every ounce of them are lost in each other. Otabek holds him close and with such strength, it was almost as if Yuri would float away if he slips just a little on his grasp. _Nothing but him._

When they break apart, the tears come, rolling down both of their cheeks as the other rushes to wipe them away. “I love you. I love you so much, Beka.” Yuri pulls Otabek closer by the back of his neck and presses their foreheads together. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re my everything.”

Otabek kisses him one more time before holding him in a full embrace, heads on shoulders and lips right by each other’s ear. He places a hand on the back of Yuri’s head, but not tight enough to rip his hair out of his scalp. He closes his eyes, and just whispers, his voice wavering with his breath, “don’t go.”

“I’m sorry, I just—” Yuri begins to back away, but Otabek holds him still. Neither of them resists after that. The apartment rang in a silence, the kind of silence that was as thick as blood and as heavy as iron — drowning them underwater. It was until finally, _finally,_ someone decided to speak.

“Do you trust me?” Otabek asks, his voice careful.

Yuri choses not to respond.

“Do you trust me?” he repeats again.

Yuri looks up from the place on the floor he’d been studying intently. He meets Otabek’s gaze before he sighs deeply. “Of course I trust you, Beka. I _love_ you.” It’s kind of mumbled and half-assed, but it’s exactly what Otabek’s been waiting to hear and he feels relieved to know that Yuri isn’t just saying it because he’s worried or stressed.

“I have something to tell you, but I need you to not freak out.”

_Not freak out. Yeah, fucking sure. That’ll make everything sunshine and fucking rainbows. Thanks, Beka._

Yuri pauses for a moment, before he finally shook his head. “I already know.” His voice cracks again, but this time he allows it to. Why would Otabek even bother telling him about it when they both know that he knows? Was it just to twist the knife in his heart?

But it wasn’t. This time, Otabek lets out an aggravated growl, his hand reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose. “For fucks sake, Yura, you’ve got everything misconstrued. It’s not that, okay? Just listen to me.”

“I know you’re fucking someone else, Beka!”

_“I bought us a fucking apartment, okay?!”_

The world seems to stop when Otabek raises his voice. He has this voice that demands attention and Yuri has always been weak to it at the best of times, but hearing Otabek physically scream in his face finally does it and Yuri _weeps_. He doesn’t even register the words until he’s already sobbing and clutching onto Otabek’s shirt, burying his face in his chest.

When Yuri finally breathes again, the words echoing in his head, he finally cracks a small smile, punching Otabek’s chest softly with one of his fists before he tangles both of his hands into his hair and pulls his face down to look at him.

“You— We have an apartment?” Yuri asks, his voice still breathy and disbelieving.

Otabek borderline hated himself for having to raise his voice and cause Yuri to break in a way - he hated raising his voice in general — but after feeling the air literally feel lighter between the two of them after he did, he would be able to let this time go. He takes a deep breath, checking his emotions as he cradled Yuri’s face in his hands.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Otabek says. “I have a friend that I’ve been keeping in touch with that has been helping me with the process, getting all the paperwork prepared and showing me various apartments.”

He pauses, remembering on the one he decided on. The one that was so absolutely perfect for the two of them, the moment he stepped inside it felt like home. He could practically picture what they would turn that apartment into, what they would do in every room, what every little wall was going to be decorated with.

“I didn’t want for things to escalate and for you to think I would ever do something like that...I’m sorry.” Otabek’s voice quiet, thinking for a moment before finally kissing the Russian and whispering a small, “surprise” against his lips.

Tears of relief slip down Yuri’s cheeks and in typical Yuri fashion, he punches Otabek _hard_ in the center of his chest. After a few deep breaths, he looks up into Beka’s eyes and holds his face in both hands, his thumbs slowly stroking his boyfriend’s cheeks. Yuri shakes his head, but his small smile remains.

_How did I ever think that he didn’t love me?_

“When are we moving in?” Yuri asks, his voice soft and warm. Otabek’s face lights up instantly and Yuri is almost certain that he can see fresh tears brimming in his eyes.

Otabek hadn’t really been excited for too many things in his life. He’d anticipate, he’d get anxious, but not too often would he be excited. But moving into an apartment with Yuri? Settling down into a home — their own home — together and happy for years to come? Nothing had ever excited him more in his life.

He takes Yuri by the shoulders, gentle but giving them a squeeze as he smiles wide, “I find out tomorrow when we can, but our estimate is by next week, at maximum.” Otabek pulls the Russian closer to his chest, and leaning down to softly speak in his ear, “I had planned on telling you tomorrow.”

He kisses the top of Yuri’s head, and wraps his arms around him in an embrace. It was firm, but welcoming and comforting, and all the Kazakh can do is take a deep breath, “I’m so sorry...about scaring you like this.”

“You fucking should be.” Yuri laughs. “I was about to fucking tear you in two.”

Yuri wouldn’t have. They both knew it, both knew that the Russian would never do anything to hurt Otabek intentionally, but the light-hearted jest made both of them feel better. Yuri lets his hands slip around Otabek’s waist as he squeezes him, taking comfort in the warm, solid hug and nuzzling his face into his neck. Yuri takes a deep breath.

“I can’t believe I get to wake up next to you every morning.”

“I can’t believe I get to call you mine.”

Otabek holds him close with one hand, while the other trails up his back to his head, where he just began to run his fingers through the blonde hair. It’s grown. He can’t help himself from smiling softly when he notices, and he gently pulls apart to create just a small gap between the two, only to fill in the gap with a kiss.

He doesn’t try to say ‘I love you,’ instead letting the connection of their lips speak volumes he couldn’t reach with his voice. Otabek’s hand in Yuri’s hair stops in mid-glide, and it returns to the back of the Russian’s head, pulling him closer so that he can deepen the kiss. He doesn’t intend on anything sexual — all he asks is for love, nothing more than just pure, unconditional love. Which, that was all he can feel coming from the smaller boy in his arms.


End file.
